


three years

by a_paper_crane



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, bianca is dead and nico is sad, depressed!Nico, freakishly happy will, highkey cliche but oh well, selectively mute nico, solangelo, typed on my phone so all lowercase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 23:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_paper_crane/pseuds/a_paper_crane
Summary: mute!au, really cliche, fuck you





	three years

**Author's Note:**

> this is adapted from an original story i wrote and so some shit doesn't make sense lmao

three years.

nico spent three years with his mouth shut. never smiling, never saying a word. his light was snuffed out with his sister's life. his favorite person was dead and gone and he didn't know until weeks later. the world had gone dark and there was nothing he could do but succumb to it, for three years.

and then will came waltzing into his life, with his stupidly happy face and his annoyingly adorable personality and his blindingly bright colors, and nico couldn't help but to let a little bit of light in.

will talked at nico for a month before he got the tiniest little smile. it was small, but it was something and will couldn't stop grinning for the next half hour. slowly at first, nico began responding to will's neverending barrage of wisecracks and questions. it was small half-smiles at first, then nods and grins, eventually small chuckles.

three months after the unlikely pair met, will looked at nico with tears in his eyes and asked, "are you ever going to talk to me?"

and something in nico broke. he responded, "yeah."

one single word and will choked back his tears and laughed. nico's single word had been more of a croak, really, but it was a word all the same, and will couldn't have been happier.

a few weeks passed and all of will's endless questions had answers. three years of silence had turned nico into a fountain of unsaid words and untold stories.

nico's silence didn't come with deafness; he had heard each and every "weird," every "strange," every "stupid" hurled at him by his peers. will was too innocent, too kind, too happy to notice every trick, joke, gag at his expense. they were outcasts, but the outcasts had each other.

sunday evenings meant little supervision and little supervision meant campfires. the pair would roast marshmallows and laugh and ignore the texts from parents that ended after the third week when nico told his mother he was with will. those sunday evenings in front of the orange fire, with will's arm thrown around his shoulders, nico had never felt more at home.


End file.
